A Mug Half Full Kind of Person
by a. loquita
Summary: When he kissed her, it didn't surprise her at all that he tasted like coffee. Castle/Beckett


Title: A Mug Half Full Kind of Person  
>Pairing: CastleBeckett  
>Spoiler warning: Up to and including the season 3 finale<br>A/N: Special thanks to supplyship for her beta work

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><p>The smell of coffee was the first thing Kate fell in love with. It was rich and interesting, and to a kid it was adult and sophisticated. (She still remembers the smell of the coffee blend that her mother preferred. It's locked in her sensory memory right alongside the sounds of a favorite childhood Saturday morning cartoon and the feeling of warmth associated with footie pajamas.) But it wasn't until high school that she actually tasted coffee for the first time while sitting in a garden-level café with a couple of girls from her American lit class. Kate didn't want to be the only one who ordered a diet coke, so, over discussion of their project on <em>The Old Man and The Sea<em>, Kate sipped a latte like the other girls did. She was a little disappointed to learn that coffee smelled better than it tasted.

In college, late one night, when she had two papers due the next day and ran out of cans of soda she turned to her roommate who owned a little 6-cup coffee maker. She poured a lot of sugar and milk into her mug and made due. An "A" and a "B+" later, Kate decided she might rethink the wonder of java.

It wasn't until the police force that coffee became a part of her daily routine. It became so much more than a caffeine boost in the midst of working a long and frustrating case. Going for a refill was also a much needed excuse for a five-minute mental health break in the middle of hours spent watching tapes of confiscated kiddie porn, looking for the child who'd gone missing from the park last week. It was a sign of solidarity between cops, when one of their own was in the emergency room and they all waited down the hall for news with nothing to do but sip paper cups filled with brown sludge from the vending machine. It was essential on stakeouts. It was essential to her work, which slowly became her life.

The fancy silver pot on the table and the tiny teacups were always a bit jarring to Kate when once a month she'd meet up with a circle of girlfriends from college for Sunday brunch. It seemed to symbolize all the other aspects of the brunch that jarred her. The distinct differences between the lives of her friends and that of her own were as obvious as the comparison of the fancy, good-tasting coffee served in delicate porcelain and the over-heated, sharp, and bitter coffee sitting in a coffeepot on a hotplate at the station. Kate's friends would go on and on about corporate takeovers and renovating their kitchens and parent-teacher conferences, while Kate sat there hoping that the serial rapist her squad was trying to catch didn't find any of these suburban housewives. She'd drink her coffee and wonder how many more of these Sunday brunches she could last.

When she became a detective Kate started taking better care of herself. She wasn't as young as she used to be and pizza and beer with the guys was starting to catch up with her. She never believed in New Year's resolutions, besides, it was June when she made detective. But that didn't matter; she took up kick-boxing classes, cut down on junk food, and scaled back her caffeine intake a little. Well, on most days, anyway. She also stopped taking cream in her coffee, not so much because of the calories but it just seemed pointless, she was used to the taste of coffee by now, especially bad coffee. So why bother?

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><p>It seemed fitting that when a force of nature such as Richard Castle comes into your life that some fundamental part of your life changes forever. And it did, the day that he brought the cappuccino machine in and gave it to the station as a gift. At first she resisted, which was quickly becoming her kneejerk reaction to all things Castle. But slowly she relented. It was sort of a nice gesture, after all, and it tasted significantly better. The coffee in her world was forever changed.<p>

Castle eventually became her partner outright (not that she admitted it to him for a long time to come). She learned to like him and they settled into a routine. Even the bad puns, the occasional flights of fancy with no evidence to back up his theories, and the boyish enthusiasm at inappropriate moments became just another part of her day to day. She couldn't remember when he first started to bring her coffee in the morning. She does, however, remember the first time that he didn't. It was right around the time that she became conscious of the fact that she was falling in love with him.

One day she realized that this flutter of tension she felt wasn't all one-sided. It was odd, to suddenly recognize the glint of it in Castle's eyes. To know that it was reciprocated, that the comments about getting her into a bikini weren't all silly jokes. It made her insides twist and knot, frightened a little, but excited too (It also made her regret downing a cup of coffee on an empty stomach. She was glad that it was only coffee; if it had been alcohol and their inhibitions were down she wasn't sure what would have happened next.) But she acted as if no major revelation had come, and instead, said goodnight. She watched him go inside the building where his family was waiting for him up in the penthouse and then she went home to her empty apartment.

Days turned into weeks and nothing happened. Until he kissed her. It didn't surprise her that he tasted like coffee. It wasn't a real kiss, of course; it was all a ruse to fool the bad guy acting as a bouncer to the torture of Esposito and Ryan. The thing was, it felt like a real kiss, and it didn't have to go on as long as it did either. But there was no time to analyze what it meant; they had to go save the boys.

On the day they buried their captain Kate was shot. After that, nothing was the same anymore. On the surface it all seemed familiar; she was back at work and routine reestablished itself, including the endless cups of coffee. People in the city don't stop murdering each other or killing themselves just because Richard Castle spoke three little words.

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><p>Things on the surface are mostly the same, but underneath, things start to change. <em>They<em> start to change, gradually at first. Stolen looks are longer. Brushing her hair out of her eyes turns into more of a caress. She kisses Castle again one night, after a long and grueling case. He greets her the next morning like she's given him the moon. Or her virginity. She takes the Starbucks he offers while rolling her eyes at him.

She's still shaking when Castle finds her, sitting dazed in the back of a blue and white. He slides a blanket around her shoulders, pushes a cup of hot, steaming liquid into her hands, and pulls her close. She takes a drink automatically, but doesn't really taste it. For a while they sit like that, until she starts talking, letting it all pour out – how she never believed this day would finally come. That she never imagined when she woke up that morning that today would be the day she'd finally solve her mother's murder. He squeezes tighter and asks what he can do. She looks at him, really looks, and turns both their worlds upside down by asking him to stay the night with her.

A few weeks later Kate feels it's about time she had a talk with Alexis woman-to-woman. The café Alexis picks looks a lot like the one Kate used to hang around back in high school. Kate buys them both a biscotti and iced latte and they find a table for two near the back. Kate tries to imagine what she would be feeling if this situation were reversed. Her father never dated after her mom died; she never had to share him with anyone. It ends up going a lot better than she had imagined it might. Turns out, Alexis always believed Kate was different, that this time it is different for her dad. That's something to think about.

They continue to work cases together, although Castle begins doing more writing and less shadowing now that he sees her in their down time. She's late one night, and she must have a look of complete shock on her face while coming through the front door because he panics. What's wrong? Was someone hurt? Is she OK?

She never thought she'd be promoted to take over as captain. Rick's first comment is a crack about how he regrets that he has no champagne in the house to celebrate. It's OK, Kate says to herself, as she pours a cup of coffee and sits down next to him on the couch. It's going to be a long night. There is a lot to consider, but she decided that they would talk about it and figure it out together. Turns out, he was already prepared for this discussion.

There's something at the edge of her consciousness pulling her awake. She stretches, feels the comforter slide against her naked skin. She sniffs; of course, coffee was calling her from her sleep. The mattress next to her dips and she opens her eyes to watch Castle sit and put a tray down next to them.

"Breakfast in bed?" she asks, smiling up at him. He's adorably disheveled with hair sticking up and everything.

"Only for you," he replies, taking her hand to kiss the ring he put on her finger last night.

"A girl could get used to this."

In fact, a girl could spend the rest of her life just like this and be happy. After all, he did know how to make a decent cup of coffee in the morning.


End file.
